


Andreil Drabbles

by Moriartied



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Headcanon, Healthy Relationships, M/M, SO MUCH TRUST, seriously for two emotionally fucked individuals, they have one of the best relationships i've ever seen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 11:23:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6982678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moriartied/pseuds/Moriartied
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of the prompts I've filled on tumblr. Andreil angst and fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cuteness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> andriel prompt: please write about them doing something cute/affectionate and the others (other foxes, new foxes, new team???) being surprised and not knowing how to handle the cuteness! xx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Submit a prompt to [angrysmols](http://angrysmols.tumblr.com).

Neil is _exhausted_. It’s the first week back from summer vacation, and his first official week as Captain. Dan graduated in the Spring, and while he’d gotten used to the idea of handling the team over the last two years, he hadn’t quite realized just how much responsibility and work it would be. There’s a fresh round of new recruits to deal with, on top of last year’s newbies, who seem to have finally become comfortable enough with their place on the team to turn into actual monsters. If he’d thought Aaron and Kevin and Nicky were bad, well these kids are the spawn of Satan himself. Not that he doesn’t love them. God, he does. They’re Foxes through and through.

So he loves them, but he also wants to murder them all if they won’t just /shut up/ for five seconds. He dumps all his gear in the locker room as he trudges into the showers, rubbing his temples to try to fend off the blossoming headache. He’s just stepped into the shower and is about to tug the stall door shut behind him when he’s met with resistance. He looks up, brows furrowed in a glare and ready to tear the head off of whoever’s disrupting him, until he sees a familiar head of white blonde hair.

His features soften and he slumps against the wall of the shower as Andrew steps in after him. He doesn’t move as Andrew slowly strips him out of his sweat drenched practice gear and turns on the water. He closes his eyes and lets Andrew slowly wash his hair, then drag his soapy hands slowly down over Neil’s body, fingers ghosting over old scars and fresh bruises. Andrew turns him around and pulls him under the warm spray of the shower, rinsing away the grime from a hard three hours of training. He presses kisses down his back, lips fluttering over each vertebrae, and Neil feels the tension leave his body all in a rush.

They don’t speak as Andrew showers himself and then wraps them both up in an oversized towel, pressing his forehead up against Neil’s. He just holds Neil for a minute like that, looking up into his eyes, searching to make sure he’s okay. When he finally seems satisfied, he pulls away and hands Neil his clean clothes.

When they exit out into the locker room, the rest of the team is in various states of undress, stretching out sore muscles and icing bruises. All motion stops when they see their captain, and their surprise is written clear on their faces. Neil isn’t sure what they’re all looking at, until he realizes Andrew’s fingers are twined with his own as they walked. His cheeks heat up and he turns to question the other boy, only to see that he isn’t even paying attention. He’s got his phone out and is completely immersed in typing out a text. Neil has no idea to who, since ninety percent of the people they know are in this room right now.

Until he feels his own phone buzz in his pocket just as Andrew puts his away.

“Proud of you, Captain” the message reads when Neil checks it, and Andrew’s fingers squeeze just a little tighter.

Neil is speechless as he looks back up at the Foxes, who have started nudging each other and murmuring under their breaths. He doesn’t have to look to the side to sense when Andrew glares at them.

“Oh fuck off, all of you.”

Neil grins then, and bumps his hip against Andrew’s, leaning in to press his lips to his hair. “Thank you,” he mumbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Submit a prompt to [angrysmols](http://angrysmols.tumblr.com).


	2. Skinny Jeans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andreil + Skinny jeans aagdagf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Submit a prompt to [angrysmols](http://angrysmols.tumblr.com).

Neil had finally started to get used to being handed a bag of new clothes by someone any time they left campus. Usually it was Nicky or one of the girls, but every so often Andrew would shove a shopping bag at him wordlessly, and he’d accept it with no more protest that a skeptical twitch of his eyebrow.

Tonight they’re going to Eden’s to celebrate making it into the championships for the second year in a row, even though it was kind of a given after their unwavering performance throughout the season. They’re still pleased with themselves, and Nicky promised he’d buy several rounds for all of them. But honestly they didn’t even need the lure of free drinks. Pretty much everyone wanted to let loose after their game against Maryland anyway.

Neil didn’t bother with anything more than sweats and a tee after his shower, because he knew he’d be getting changed again anyway, and sure enough, there’s Andrew, standing in front of him with a black bag, some designer logo he doesn’t recognize emblazoned on the front. He takes it soundlessly and retreats to the bedroom to change. Whatever he’s expecting, this definitely isn’t it.

He pulls a wad of dark cloth out of the bag, eyes widening. How the hell does Andrew expect him to be able to fit into these? There’s hardly even enough fabric there to qualify them as jeans. He frowns and pushes off his sweats, then proceeds to squeeze himself into these minuscule things trying to pass themselves off as pants.

They’re skin tight. A deep black, some kind of satiny finish to the cloth. They cling to his hips, his thighs, his /ass/. He stares at himself in the mirror, and for once the most noticeable thing isn’t his piercing blue eyes.

The shirt Andrew had handed him is a rosy pink, muted and soft looking. It’s short sleeves stop somewhere midway down his biceps, and the hem hangs loose right at the waistband of the pants. He fidgets with his black armbands, feeling exposed. He can’t change back now.l though. He’s never turned down an outfit, and he’s not going to start now. Especially not since Andrew had been the one to give him these clothes. So he smooths back his hair, adjusts himself in the jeans one last time, and then shoves the door open.

Nicky’s the first one who sees him, and his eyes widen like saucers. “Damn, Neil,” he whistles low as he passes him on his way to the bathroom. Neil feels the back of his neck heat up with embarrassment. He wants to find one of his oversized hoodies and drown himself in it.

But Andrew looks up from where he’s flipping TV channels mindlessly, eyes trailing their way slowly up Neil’s body, and then pushes himself up from the bean bag chair. He takes the few steps over to Neil, and leans in close, nosing into his neck and then biting his earlobe.

“I’m going to burn every other pair of pants you own,” he says with all the emotion of someone discussing the weather.

The hair on the back of Neil’s neck stands up with a shiver that courses through his whole body. He’s never really understood a feeling like sexual attraction before. He’s not sure he fully comprehends it now, but seeing the hint of a spark in Andrew’s eyes when he pulls away, knowing that Andrew likes the way he looks, that he–in some physical way–wants him, is a revelation.

“You um, you’re into this?” he asks, still sort of frozen in place.

Andrew shoots him a look, eyes dark again. “Shut up.” Then he shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “Idiot.”

Neil has no idea how he can possibly make that word sound so fond.


	3. Smut ;)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> call me a sinner but some andreil smut would be so nice rn!! pls pls pls I love your writing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Submit a prompt to [angrysmols](http://angrysmols.tumblr.com).

Showering together becomes a Thing even after Neil is bandage free. When they come back from their midnight training sessions, Andrew doesn’t say anything, just tugs at Neil’s sleeve and guides him towards the bathroom. He strips him slowly, always so careful, like Neil’s breakable, even though time and time again he’s proved himself otherwise.

Andrew peels off his sweat slick practice jersey, tugs down his shorts, and pushes him under the warm spray of the shower. His movements are slow and deliberate, and he doesn’t take his eyes off Neil’s face. The intensity of his gaze is intimidating sometimes, but Neil can’t look away if he tried. The way Andrew can stare into his bright blue eyes and still see him as Neil and not the son of a killer is everything Neil needs.

Andrew’s fingers trail down over Neil’s chest, tracing old scars, sliding over the hard lines of his ribs, the resting delicately on his hips. He holds his stare for a moment longer and then leans in, pressing his lips to Neil’s with that same desperate fervor he had the first time and every time since. Neil wants to lift his hands to Andrew’s chest, cup his neck, draw him even closer, but he holds back, just kissing him back instead. Their lips are bruised by the time Andrew pulls away. His wet hair sticks to his forehead, water running down his bare chest in rivulets, as he just stands there looking at Neil.

Then he clamps his jaw shut, fingers digging into Neil’s skin, something wild blooming in his eyes.

“Turn around,” he says, low. There’s something rough in his voice and Neil only hesitates a second before complying, turning to face the wall, pressing his hands to the cool tile.

He feels Andrew’s hot breath on his neck, his hands spread wide over his back as he presses up against him.

“Yes or no?” he asks, practically a whisper into Neil’s skin.

Neil doesn’t know exactly what he’s asking for, but the answer is always is always yes. He nods, closing his eyes. The fact that he willingly bared his back to Andrew, trusted him so instinctually that he didn’t spare a thought about putting himself in this vulnerable position, rocks him slightly.

He lets his forehead drop to rest on the tiled wall, fingers curling as Andrew presses kisses down the length of his spine. He hears rather than sees when Andrew drops to his knees behind him, hands cupping the swell of his ass. There’s a moment of hesitation before Andrew leans in again, pressing his lips to Neil’s thigh, and then his cheek, and then he’s spreading Neil apart and licking over his entrance and Neil’s entire body is on fire.

It’s the most intimate thing they’ve done. The most intimate thing Neil’s ever done. His body isn’t quite sure how to react. His chest feels tight. His mind is spinning in a fog as he’s nearly overwhelmed thinking about what this means. Andrew is always catching him off guard. Whenever he thinks he’s figured him out, he does things like this and sets Neil’s world off kilter again and again.

He doesn’t want to touch himself. He has this notion that it would cheapen things. That this moment deserves so much more than a quick wank. Instead he bites down on the back of his palm, letting out a soft whimper as Andrew dips his tongue in again.

His eyes burn as he squeezes them tightly shut. His breaths are fluttery in his chest, and he can feel himself slowly coming apart, tension slowly seeping out of him.

Suddenly Andrew grips his hips and turns him around. Neil’s back thuds against the wall with the sudden force and he opens his eyes, dazed, to see Andrew curling his hand around his length, stretching his lips around the tip as he takes him in. Neil stares down at him, seeing a determination in his features that contrasts so deeply with his usual apathy. He lets out a moan as he clenches his fists to keep his hands out of Andrew’s hair. Andrew notices, and reaches his hands up to twine his fingers with Neil’s, holding them firmly back against the wall as he continues to work his mouth along his cock.

“F-fuck, gonna–” Neil stammers out, and Andrew doesn’t pull away, just squeezes his hands harder and takes Neil in as deep as he can. Neil’s head drops back against the wall as his body tenses, hips stuttering forward as he comes hard, and Andrew just takes it, swallowing him down and then pulling away, not letting go of Neil’s hands to wipe his mouth. Neil stares down at him, sees swollen pink lips glistening, and his chest tightens again.

“Come here,” he murmurs, and he’s a little surprised with how fast Andrew complies, standing up on unsteady feet and pressing up against Neil’s chest. Now it’s Neil’s turn to stare for a beat too long before he leans in to kiss him.

They’re still holding hands, and Andrew doesn’t let go until the shower starts to go cold. Even then he still keeps some type of constant contact with him, even as they wash themselves and then towel dry, and even still when they crawl into bed and Andrew curls his body around Neil’s like a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Submit a prompt to [angrysmols](http://angrysmols.tumblr.com).


	4. Coming Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> neil!! and andrew!!! coming out to the world!! (intentionally or not) there are so many headcannons on this but i need more!!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Submit a prompt to [angrysmols](http://angrysmols.tumblr.com).

After coming out to the team about their relationship, Neil doesn’t really see the point in being secretive. He’s not ashamed of who he is or who he likes, and he’s made a promise to himself of ‘no more lies’ so it just doesn’t occur to him to be covert about feelings towards Andrew.

Feelings. Wow.

They still haven’t put a label on things, but at least they’re both admitting that it is indeed a Thing. And Andrew is as affectionate as Neil could have ever hoped him to be, which, granted, is not very much.

Still, things are really good. And Neil, for the first time in his life, is allowing himself to relax. To get attached to someone and somewhere. To build himself a Home out the rubble of his life.

So Neil’s got all these super emo Feelings built up inside him, and he quite frankly doesn’t give a shit who sees. But he knows it’s not the same for Andrew. He knows that Andrew is still very careful about who he lets into his life, and while he’s started accepting the Foxes, there’s no way he’s going to want to invite the entire world to be a part of his private business.

So Neil holds back. He waits until they’re off the court to kiss Andrew. He doesn’t mention anything to reporters when they start interrogating him about everything from his favorite shampoo to his thoughts on politics, which, holy hell, is probably the farthest thing from his mind. His bubble of things that concern him has quadrupled in size over the last year, but it’s still microscopic in relation to the rest of the outside world.

Anything that isn’t Exy, Andrew, or his makeshift little family of Foxes, is about as important to him as the weather in Fiji.

It’s after their last Fall game, when they’ve once again secured their place in the championship matches, that Neil is once again the spokesperson for the reporters. He’s usually paired with Dan or Kevin, but Dan pulled something bad in her leg, and Kevin might be concussed, so somehow he’s ended up in front of a camera with Andrew.

They’re both winded and physically drained, running solely on the adrenaline of their victory, so Neil isn’t really sure what he’s saying, or if he’s even speaking English.

The interviewer smirks, wiggling her eyebrow at Neil. “Got a special lady you’re going to celebrate with tonight?” she asks, and Neil just kind of stares at her. These kind of inane questions don’t even merit a response in his mind but–oh. He can practically feel Andrew tense up next to him. He reaches out for his hand to give it a squeeze out of the frame of the camera, but Andrew doesn’t let him even get close. He stares the interviewer dead in the eye, jaw clenched.

“He doesn’t have any ‘ladies’,” he spits, and alarm bells go off in Neil’s head.

“What are you–” he hisses under his breath, but Andrew shoots him the most patronizing look he’s ever seen on those sharp features and he shuts up.

Not a second later, Andrew’s hand is on his cheek, turning his face towards him and planting a kiss directly on his lips with a bruising intensity. And then he bites down on Neil’s lower lip quickly before pulling away, leaving Neil flushed and gaping, eyes wide, his heart beating in his throat.

Andrew glares at the camera. “Happy, you fuckers?”

–

Allison makes a ton of cash that night, and Neil wonders how the heck she managed to predict /that/ of all things, when he’s still questioning his reality and whether it even actually happened or not. Andrew won’t say a word to anyone, but that night when they’re back in their room alone, he leaves no less than seven dark bruises on Neil’s neck, and a couple bite marks. Neil swears he even heard him mutter 'Mine’ a couple times, but he knows Andrew would slit his throat if he brought it up, so he just tucks that knowledge away with a small private smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Submit a prompt to [angrysmols](http://angrysmols.tumblr.com).


	5. Tattoos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt idea?? neil gets a tattoo! how does andrew react?? or the foxes??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Submit a prompt to [angrysmols](http://angrysmols.tumblr.com).

Neil still has a moment of panic every time he looks in the mirror and sees the scar where there was once a “4”. It doesn’t last long and he snaps himself out of it, but he can’t go a morning without his throat closing up and his vision going black for a moment.

He’s got so many scars, but none of them burn quite like this one.

It’s a reminder of something that was taken from him. His choice. His bodily autonomy. He’d never really wanted a tattoo before–it would be too distinguishing, too recognizable any time he had to change his identity. He needed to be a blank slate. He couldn’t have anything that stood out.

But when Riko inked that number onto his face, he knew things would never be the same again. Even now that it’s gone, the scar left behind is now the most identifiable thing about Neil Josten. And he hates that. It’s not who he is. Or rather, it’s not who he’s decided he’s going to be. Neil is done running. He’s Neil forever now, and this body is _his_.

So one day when he steps out of the shower and stares at himself in the mirror, he makes the decision. He doesn’t tell anyone where he’s going. He walks thirteen miles to a shop out in the middle of nowhere and plunks sixty bucks down on the counter. He’s slowly learning how to spend money on himself. It’s one step closer to feeling like a real person. Like someone who has a permanent place in the world. And a right to exist.

The next morning when he looks himself in the mirror, he sees Neil Josten. He is not Nathaniel Wesninski. He is not the butcher’s son. He is not the Moriyamas’ pet. He is a Fox, and the thin paw print outline on his neck, where his hairline stops by his ear, will make that loud and clear to anyone who thinks otherwise.

As he stares at the fresh ink in the mirror, the smallest of smiles creeps onto his face. He almost doesn’t notice the door opening behind him until Andrew is standing at his side, brows furrowed, lifting two fingers to ghost over the lines.

“Cool,” is all he says, before shouldering Neil out of the way so he can grab the toothpaste from the sink counter. Neil reaches out to pull his hand back and Andrew’s eyes shoot up to his face again, his look a mix of annoyance and confusion. Neil just turns his hand over in Andrew’s palm so his wrist is facing up. Andrew looks down, and it’s only because Neil is so attuned to the other boy’s body language that he even notices the soft intake of breath when Andrew sees the second tattoo Neil got.

It’s tiny, not something anyone would notice unless they’re looking closely. They’re not meant to, is the thing. This one is private. This one is for him. And Andrew.

Andrews fingers squeeze around his wrist, tight enough to bruise, but a safe distance away from the small key inked right over his largest vein.

He doesn’t say anything, but Neil doesn’t need him too. He knows Andrew knows what it means, and that’s enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Submit a prompt to [angrysmols](http://angrysmols.tumblr.com).


	6. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so i dont know if you still make prompts of andreil but i have to try: Andrew waking up from a really bad nightmare and Neil sings for him till he falls asleep again, but of course he is like 456% (i saw somewhere that Neil has a really good voice so and i loved it).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Submit a prompt to [angrysmols](http://angrysmols.tumblr.com).

Neil is still a light sleeper, even if he’s learned to be a bit less on edge in the past year. He still wakes up at the slightest sound or movement. The only real change is that after his first groggy instinct that he’s being attacked, his mind goes immediately to his friends. Because he has those now, even if he’s still a bit resistant to the idea.

The point is, when Neil jerks awake at some absurd time in the early early morning while the room is still pitch black, his immediate concern is the boy in bed next to him.

Andrew is shaking. He’s tossing back and forth, and making these whimpering sounds that make Neil’s chest clench. He sits up, hand hovering near to Andrew’s shoulder. He can’t touch him, he knows that, but he doesn’t know how else to help. He has no idea what kind of torture Andrew is reliving right now, but it’s one of the worst reactions he’s seen from the boy.

When Andrew screams out in his sleep, Neil almost throws all ideas of self-preservation to the wind to wake him up, but while he would probably let Andrew strangle him if that’s what it came to, he really doesn’t want to be just another person who’s crossed his boundaries and violated him without his consent. He could never live with that. Never betray Andrew’s tentative trust that way.

So instead he scoots closer to Andrew on the bed, careful to leave some space between them, and takes a deep breath.

“Andrew,” he murmurs softly. “It’s just a dream. It’s not real.”

But Andrew is too lost in the nightmare to hear him. He’s trembling, practically crying in his sleep. He looks so young and vulnerable and Neil hates it. He doesn’t feel like he has a right to see Andrew like this. So he closes his eyes and starts humming. It’s what his mother used to do when he was younger. She might not have been the most nurturing of people, but she knew how to calm Neil down. It was probably out of necessity to keep him quiet, but it’s still a memory that stands out about her.

He doesn’t know the words to the song any more, but the melody comes back to him easily. He keeps repeating the chorus over and over until Andrew slowly stops shaking. When he’s finally calm, Neil opens his eyes again. Andrew is breathing evenly. His hair is sweaty and matted to his forehead, but other than that there’s no sign of the terror that had been etched into his features moments ago. He still looks childlike, innocent and undamaged, and it stabs at Neil’s heart.

He watches Andrew for a few more minutes, brow furrowed and chest tight as he wishes he could protect him from his own past, until sleep tugs at him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Submit a prompt to [angrysmols](http://angrysmols.tumblr.com).


End file.
